


Wisdom Teeth

by eastaustraliancurrent



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: (VERY temporary amnesia it’s honestly not even really amnesia), Dentists, Domesticity, Eddie survives, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Life, Rating for language that’s it, Recovery, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Temporary Amnesia, Wisdom Teeth, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastaustraliancurrent/pseuds/eastaustraliancurrent
Summary: Richie gets his wisdom teeth removed and Eddie has to deal with a very loopy Richie Tozier.





	Wisdom Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> I could not think of a title ignore how shitty it is please.
> 
> This is based on that one video of the guy who forgets his wife is his wife and raves about how beautiful she is. Inspired by this tumblr post.

“Eddie Kaspbrak?”

Eddie startled and the health magazine he was reading fell to his lap. He stood up in the bald light of the dentist’s waiting room.

The hygienist checked her clipboard. “You’re here for Richie Tozier?”

Eddie nodded, then cleared his throat, feeling as though the hygienist deserved some proof he wasn’t a mute. “Yes.” Everything about the office was too similar to a hospital, and Eddie found himself falling back into old habits the longer he was there. He absently patted his pockets for his aspirator.

“Follow me, the hygienist said.

The hallway was filled with more harsh lighting and pale walls, and Eddie wondered what about the medical practice made color so abhorrent to the decorators. A little blue might help, Eddie thought. His right arm ached and Eddie shivered in the cool air.

“You’ll need to make sure to change the gauze, because he won’t be able to do it himself,” the hygienist was saying. “And remember to—”

Eddie’s watch beeped, cutting the hygienist off. Eddie’s hand went to his left jacket pocket on instinct, and he was already tapping two pills into his hand before he recognized the hygienist’s mild shock and curiosity. 

Richie and Eddie had been apprehensive about Richie getting surgery when Eddie was still recovering from his own. Eddie managed to convince him he was fine, a strange switch of positions where Eddie was reassuring Richie about health issues. He was nearly fully recovered from that day in the sewers; all that was left was the pain, and that was easily managed by carefully scheduled pain medication.

Eddie side-eyed the hygienist and swallowed the pills dry, refusing to address them.

The hygienist cleared her throat. “And remember to to remind him to take his medication,” she finished.

Eddie snorted. That wouldn’t be hard for him to do.

The hygienist pushed open a door, and they were greeted with Richie’s laughter. Richie was sprawled out on the dentist chair and gazing at the light fixture above his head. 

“There’s a sun in here,” Richie announced at the sound of the door opening, and Eddie smiled.

Richie had somehow managed to avoid removing his wisdom teeth for over two decades. The argument was one he and Eddie had for years, but once Eddie managed to bully Richie into a dentist appointment and the dentist told Richie that he had six cavities, he’d finally relented. Eddie had been shocked his teeth hadn’t completely rotted out of his mouth already.

Richie rolled his head to look at the doorway, then let out so genuine a gasp of delight that Eddie glanced behind him to make sure there wasn’t a Pomeranian or something.

Richie let out a low whistle. “Now, if that ain’t the purdiest thing I’ve lain my eyes on,” he drawled in his cowboy Voice. “Come here often, dah-ling?”

Eddie flicked his ear. “How you feeling, Rich?”

Richie gazed up at him, absently holding onto the sleeve of Eddie’s jacket. “Man, are you eye candy,” he said.

Eddie snorted.

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s wrist and tugged gently. “Get up, dipshit. We’re going home.”

Richie jumped up, and Eddie had to grab him by the shoulders so he didn’t stagger into a wall. “‘We?’” Richie asked.

“Yeah, we. We live together, dumbass.”

“Oh, shit!” Richie clapped his hands to his forehead. “I live with _you?_”

“Well, we’re married, so—” 

“Shut up!” Eddie now held Richie around the waist, struggling to keep the man upright. “You’re my _husband?_ Holy _shit!_” Richie buried his face against Eddie’s shoulder. To Eddie’s dismay, he felt tears and what was likely snot leaking through the fabric. “Oh my god, I’ve hit the jackpot,” Richie sobbed.

Eddie looked helplessly back at the hygienist, but she was undisturbed. “Here’s his gauze and medication,” she said. “Have a nice day.” And she left Eddie alone with a bawling Richie. 

“Get off me.” Eddie tried to push Richie’s head off his shoulder, but Richie was resolute in his determination to cry directly into Eddie’s jacket. He was probably doing it on purpose, Eddie thought as Richie started to wipe his nose on Eddie. Eddie grabbed him by the hair and Richie yelled much louder than necessary.

“How could you do that to me?” Richie moaned, massaging his head. “My own husband,” he mumbled in despair.

Eddie fished a tissue out of his pocket and threw it at Richie. Thankfully, Richie caught it before it fluttered to the floor, but he just held it limply at his side, staring in disbelief at Eddie again.

“Blow your nose, fucknuts.”

Richie did, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

“Fucking disgusting,” Eddie muttered as Richie threw away the tissue. “ Come here. Let’s go.”

Richie held out a hand. Eddie rolled his eyes, then grabbed it and tugged Richie through the hallways like a toddler.

“You see this beautiful man?” Richie yelled at a passing dentist. “My husband! Can you believe it?”

“Be quiet, Richie,” Eddie hissed.

“How can I be quiet when I’ve just heard the best news of my life?” Richie asked, incredulous. “I’ve married an angel!”

As Eddie stood at the counter and paid, Richie stared rapt at Eddie’s profile. The receptionist smiled and asked if Richie wanted a toy.

“Are you high?” Richie screeched. “Of course I want a fucking toy!”

Eddie burned bright red, but the receptionist only laughed and pulled out the treasure box from under the counter. 

Richie chose a neon pink bouncy ball, then Eddie pushed him out the door. Richie bounced the ball up and down as they walked through the parking lot, then stopped dead. Eddie scrambled to catch the ball before it rolled away.

“Have we kissed yet?” Richie asked, and Eddie stopped, forgetting about the ball for a moment.

“What the fuck, Richie?”

“My ball!” Richie screeched, then ran after it. It rolled across the parking lot, back toward the sidewalk and Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat as it rolled towards a storm drain. Eddie grabbed Richie by the wrist to stop him, but Richie had already frozen. They watched as it slowly rolled into the mouth and fell with a soft splash. 

Eddie now had both hands wrapped around Richie’s arm and Richie was clutching Eddie’s sleeve again. They stared at where the ball had disappeared, waiting for a voice to come drifting out, or maybe a balloon.

“I barely even liked that ball,” Richie muttered, and Eddie laughed, his breath only hitching slightly. How ridiculous they must look, Eddie thought. Two grown men holding each other in a parking lot as they stared horrified at a storm drain.

“Let’s go,” Eddie said.

Eddie had to wrangle Richie into the backseat because Richie wanted to ride shotgun. “But I called it!” Richie whined. “Eddie, I called shotgun _first._”

Richie did a ten minute-long bit from one of his most recent shows that lasted the whole way home. “—And that’s why they shouldn’t make ‘em with balls nowadays!” Richie crowed as Eddie pulled into the driveway.

Eddie opened Richie’s door for him, but didn’t let him out yet. “Let me see your gauze.”

Richie opened his mouth wide and for a moment Eddie was worried that Richie had swallowed it. Then he saw how awkwardly Richie was holding his tongue in his mouth.

“I can see them hidden under your tongue, Rich. You need to keep those on your gums.”

Richie pouted.

Eddie coaxed Richie into swinging his feet out the door, then grabbed him by the wrists and heaved him out the car. Richie rag dolled and fell forward onto Eddie, forcing him to step back for balance. His chest pulled uncomfortably at his wound.

“Rich. Rich, you need to get up,” Eddie groaned.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Rich, my chest.”

Richie straightened up, but remained flush against Eddie’s front, his arms dangling while Eddie caught his breath.

“You really aren’t making this easy, huh?” 

“Life ain’t easy, kid,” Richie said solemnly.

“I don’t even know what Voice that’s supposed to be,” Eddie sighed. He pushed Richie forward again. “Walk, dumbshit.”

They sketched an awkward waltz towards the couch, Eddie mostly underneath Richie with his arms wrapped around Richie’s ribs, and Richie hugging Eddie around the head, giggling all the way.

Eddie flung Richie to the couch, but Richie grabbed Eddie by the collar on the way down, choking him as he yanked Eddie on top of himself. Eddie’s chin crashed into Richie’s sternum and they landed on the couch in a sprawl.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie wheezed.

“No,” Richie laughed. “I’m Richie.” And he reached down to grab Eddie’s ass.

Eddie made to sit up but Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s torso, pulling him flush against his chest. “Don’t go,” he cried, and to Eddie’s surprise Richie sounded almost frantic.

Sure enough, as Eddie pulled back to see Richie’s face, Richie started crying again.

“Why are you crying?” Eddie stifled a huff of laughter.

“I’m just so h-h-happy,” Richie bawled. “You’re so p-perfect and I can just h-h-hold you in my arms if I want to? That’s _insane._”

Eddie laid his forehead against Richie’s chest and laughed. He listened as Richie trailed off into listless sobs, chest shaking under Eddie’s face, until he was quiet again. Then Richie let out a snore that shook the couch. Eddie snorted against Richie’s chest.

Eddie turned his head so his ear rested on Richie’s chest and listened to his breathing. He thought about the sewers, as he so often did, and said a silent prayer of thanks as Richie’s chest moved up and down. So much could have gone wrong down there. So much did. It was pure luck that they managed to get out alive. Eddie felt the wound in his own chest twinge against Richie’s belly. A _lot_ of luck.

Eddie’s phone pinged in his back pocket. It was Bill, asking after Richie in the Losers group chat they had started, all of them sitting around Eddie’s hospital bed and praying they wouldn’t forget, not again. Eddie snapped a supremely unflattering picture of Richie and sent it to the chat. He set the phone down on the coffee table and laid back down on Richie’s chest, content to lie with him for another moment. Or at least until Richie woke and started blubbering again.


End file.
